Til Someone Better Comes Along
By Anyjay for the Drunken Giles Ficathon run by antennapedia
FRT
Giles/Xander
3,400 words
Giles and Xander belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy, not to me. I make no money, I have no rights.
Set on Christmas Eve of Season 4. This is AU. It's a sequel to my story The First (and Last) Time Willow Said the F-word
“Hey, Loverboy!” Xander yelled as he burst into Giles’ apartment. But instead of the expected exasperated-yet-secretly-pleased ‘I told you never to call me that,” there was only a muffled groan.
Xander shucked his backpack, and pulled the stake from his jacket pocket. It might be Christmas Eve, but it was still Sunnydale after dark.
“Giles? You okay?” Xander called out, edging slowly further into the apartment.
“Xan’er?” Giles’ voice sounded weakly from the vicinity of the couch.
Xander stepped over to where he could see Giles lying down, blinking groggily. Xander ran to him. He dropped the stake and knelt next to the couch, and began to gently probe Giles’ head for bumps. “Did you hit your head? Are you bleeding? Did you see what attacked you? Should I call Buffy?”
“’M alright,” Giles said, his speech slurred.
Xander caught a whiff of his breath. “Damn it, Giles!”
“Wha’s a matter?” Giles asked.
Xander sat in the armchair farthest from the couch and glared at Giles. “You’re drunk.”
Giles struggled to sit up. “Is there 'poc-lypse? Why’re you here”
“This is what I always do after work.” Xander said. “Go home, shower away the stench of pepperoni and minimum wage servitude, and come by here. Why are you drunk?”
Giles achieved a semblance of a sitting position on the couch. He looked around the room, blinking. His eyes traveled from the miniature Christmas tree sitting on his coffee table to Xander’s face. “Chrish, Christmas Eve. You’re s’pposed to be home with family, singing carols ‘n whatnot.”
Xander shook his head angrily. “I’m supposed to be here, with my boyfr-, um, with you. Only you’re not supposed to be drunk. Do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to Christmas Eve without the sobriety-challenged? To the complete avoidance of people of intoxication? A total absence of Inebriated-Americans?”
Giles pulled himself into a more dignified posture. “’M not an ebria, an inebiated, an inrebiated - I’m British.”
Xander sighed. “What are the chances you’ll drink some water, if I bring it to you?”
“No water,” said Giles.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Uhuh. I’ve never met a drunk yet who would do anything that was good for him. Why should you be the exception?”
“Tea,” Giles said.
“So if I make tea, you’ll drink it?” Xander asked. “You’re really that drunk?”
Giles thought about that for a moment. “Or’nge juice.”
Xander nodded and got Giles a glass of orange juice from the kitchen and some aspirin from the bathroom. He handed Giles the glass and the tablets and then stood back. So far, Giles was not-so-much-with-the-surly, but staying beyond a drunk’s arm reach was just plain good sense.
Giles blinked at him. “Why’re you here?”
“I’m here every night.” Xander said. “Surely you noticed the regular occurrence of hot, gay sex.” Giles didn’t say anything, so Xander babbled on. “Please tell me you noticed the regular occurrence of hot, gay sex.”
Giles nodded and stared into his glass of orange juice. “Not going to last. Just til shum, sh, someone better comes along.”
Xander grimaced. It’s not like he didn’t know that Giles thought of Xander as just a friend with benefits. Or an annoyance with benefits, depending on the day. It still hurt to hear Giles say it.
“Drink up there, Foster Brooks,” Xander said. He waited until Giles handed him the empty glass, then carried it back into the kitchen. He was rinsing the glass in the sink when the front door suddenly burst open.
Xander had only a moment of panic before he realized that the invaders were Buffy, Willow and Anya.
The three women spotted Giles sitting on the coach, and flocked to him.
“Giles!” Buffy said, “Xander is missing.”
“Xan’er?” Giles asked, looking around in a perplexed fashion. “Mishing?”
“He sleeps in the backyard every Christmas Eve, but he wasn’t there,” Willow said, her voice high with panic, “Even his sleeping bag was gone. So Buffy checked with me, and I haven’t seen him, and then we found Anya but she hasn’t seen him, and The Bronze is closed so we looked-”
“Will!” Xander said from the kitchen, “Breathe! I’m here. I’m right here.”
The three women rushed to over to Xander.
“Xander,” Buffy said, punching him in the arm, “let me know next time you’re not going to be in mortal danger, so I don’t have to worry.”
“Sure thing, Buff,” Xander said. “Also, can I just say ow!”
“She was worried,” Willow said. “We all were.”
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Anya said, hugging Xander.
For a moment Xander hugged back. Then Anya’s hands slipped down past his waist to caress his ass.
“ANYA!” he said, pushing her away. “Hands!”
“I think we should get back together, Xander,” Anya said. “You were wrong when you said there’d be a lot of guys who want to give me orgasms. There are only a lot of guys who want me to give them orgasms. And a few who want me to shut up and go away.”
“What a surprise,” Willow said. “Wait, did you two break up?”
“Kinda,” Xander said. Then he caught a hopeful look in Anya’s eye and added “And by that I mean completely and irrevocably.”
“Buffy!” Giles said, joining them all in the kitchen. “You found Xander. This calls for a shela, celeba, for a party!”
“Yeah,” Willow smiled as she looked from Xander to Anya and back again. “Suddenly I feel like celebrating. Do you have any soda, Giles?”
“No,” Giles said, pulling cups from the cupboard. “No soda. Eggnog!”
He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a glass bowl about half full of a light colored liquid.
“It’s an old Giles family recipe,” he announced proudly, as he ladled the eggnog from the bowl into the cups.
Xander looked at his cup dubiously. “There’s egg in this?”
“Yes,” Giles said.
“But it’s cooked, right? You didn’t just hand me a big old cup of salmonella? Because I have other plans for Christmas morning besides puking my guts out.”
“No, the eggs’re raw. The alcohol would kill anything nasty, though. ’s perfectly safe.”
“Are you sure?” Willow asked.
“Oh yes, I, er, I couldn’t quite remember how much scotch the recipe called for. So I added the whole bottle of scotch.”
“Scotch?” Xander said. “Hey, Giles, aren’t you the guy who gave me unending grief because I let Buffy drink a little beer. Hypocritical much?”
Giles looked hurt. “Isn’t beer. It’s scotch.”
Xander laughed. “Oh, well, that’s alright then.”
Giles smiled and his face wavered towards Xander. For a moment, Xander thought Giles was going to kiss him in front of everyone. Then Giles pulled back and picked up his cup instead. “Happy Christmas,” he said to the group, raising his glass.”
Xander rolled his eyes at the Britishism, but answered “Happy Christmas,” along with Buffy and Anya. Willow just made her ‘not everyone worships Santa’ face as they all clinked their cups together.
Buffy and Willow took polite sips of the eggnog. Anya took a larger sip, evidently an eggnog fan. Xander waited until Giles’ back was turned and dumped his out in the sink.
“That was great!” Xander said, smacking his lips. “Too bad there’s not any more.”
“Oh,” Giles said. “Here, you can have mine.” He gave his cup to Xander. “I’ve already had quite a bit.”
“Thanks,” Xander said, accepting Giles’ cup as if it were a live snake.
Anya tipped her glass back, making sure to get the last drop. “God, I’ve missed alcohol,” she said.
“I could, er, make more, I s’pose,” Giles said. He pulled a fresh bottle of scotch from the cupboard and then turned towards the refrigerator.
“Don’t bother on my account,” Anya said. “Straight scotch will do fine.” She reached over, picked up the bottle and carried it with her to the living room. Giles stopped to grab a couple glasses before following her and the bottle.
“So, Xan,” Willow said. “Enquiring minds want to know. How do you dump a former vengeance demon and end up still in one piece?”
“Actually she was very cool about it,” Xander said. “We’re staying friends and everything.”
“And she’s not going to try and remove any important body parts when you start seeing another woman?” Buffy asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anya said from the living room. “Xander’s never having sex with a woman ever again.”
“What did you do to him?” Willow asked, striding out of the kitchen towards Anya. Buffy and Xander followed her.
“Me? Hah!” Anya said. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one who made him magically gay. Thank you very much. I don’t think I’ll ever find another guy who can do the things with his tongue that Xander can do.”
“Here, here,” Giles said, lifting his glass and earning himself a couple of strange looks.
“I did not make Xander gay,” Willow said. “I’ve said I’m sorry, like, a million times. And the effects of that spell were temporary. It’s not like Buffy is still wanting to marry Spike, right, Buffy?
“Marry? No.” Buffy said. Then she noticed how everyone was looking at her. “I mean, I don’t feel even the slightest attraction towards Spike, no matter how good a kisser he is - was. How good a kisser he was. When I was in love with him. Which I’m not. Anymore. Because the spell was temporary.”
“Xander is a good kisser,” Anya said. She finished off her scotch and poured herself another, also topping off Giles’ glass when he held it out to her.
Giles sipped his scotch and nodded. “Very good.”
“And he would try anything in bed,” Anya said. “Anything.”
“Really?” Giles asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “I know now why he liked pegging so much. But he also liked the spanking. A lot.”
“Yeah, I was surprised when he asked for that,” Giles said, “’s good, though.”
“It’s his enthusiasm,” Anya said. “That’s what’s so great. Oh, and his stamina. And that thing he does with his tongue.”
“Not jus’ his tongue,” Giles said. “The sounds he makes when I deep throat him, I believe I could come just lis’ning to those sounds.”
Both Willow and Buffy are regarding their cups of eggnogg with horror.
“Evil beer makes you a cave person,” said Buffy. “So evil eggnog must make you hear, like, the most disturbing thing you can imagine, right?”
“I don’t think I could imagine this,” Willow said. “I’ve never really been that creative.”
“He makes the same sounds when you rub ice on his nipples,” Anya said.
“Ice?” Giles looked interested.
“GILES!” Xander yelled. “What the hell is WRONG with you?”
“Oh,” said Buffy. “Good. There’s something wrong with Giles. That makes more sense. He drank way more of the evil eggnog than the rest of us. Maybe he’s possessed or something.”
“Right,” Willow said. “Giles is totally possessed. That makes a lot more sense.”
“What?” Giles asked Xander.
“For the past month you’ve been Mr-No-Xander-We-Can’t-Tell-Our-Friends-Because-We-Can’t-Let-Willow-Think-Anything-Good-Came-From-Her-Irresponsible-Use-Of-Magic-So-We’re-Lying-Because-It’s-Really-The-Moral-High-Ground-And-Also-Even-Though-I-Won’t-Admit-It-Because-I’m-Deeply-Ashamed-To-Be-Involved-With-A-Minimum-Wage-Loser-Who-Couldn’t-Even-Get-Into-College.”
“What?” Giles said again.
“And now suddenly you’re hopping onboard Anya’s TMI train? It’s like I’m just a, a, a sex toy to you two. God!”
“Wait,” Willow said. “You mean you’re actually-the two of you are actually - I can’t believe this. I’ve been wallowing in guilt for weeks. I baked cookies, I groveled, and I haven’t so much as levitated a pencil for a month. And the whole time, the whole time, you LIKED it. You’ve been doing your own encores, now with added spanking!”
Willow pointed at Xander. “And you! I don’t care what your new boyfriend says. I’m your best friend. I’ve been your best friend for practically as long as either of us can remember. You don’t lie to your best friend, Xander. I thought I’d screwed up past all redemption. I thought I’d hurt you in a way I could never fix, and the whole time you were having a grand old time, getting your lying little rocks off with Giles.”
There was silence for a moment. Everyone, including Willow, was stunned because Willow just didn’t talk like that.
Then Anya said, “They’re not little.”
“What?” Willow said.
“His ‘rocks,’” Anya said. “They’re not little. And technically, they aren’t the part of him that was lying to you.”
Xander turned bright red. “Thank you, Anya, but you’re not helping.”
Xander looked from Willow to Giles and back. “Willow, can I talk to you outside?” He took her arm and led her outside into the courtyard.
“You think you did me a favor with that spell now, don’t you?” Xander said as soon as he closed the door behind them.
“Well, obviously,” Willow said. “A watcher’s got to be an upgrade on a demon, and at least Giles was born in the same century you were.”
“You don’t get it, Will,” Xander said. “I was FINE with Anya. Maybe I was missing something, a big something, but I didn’t know that. Anya and I had a whole mutual need slash codependency thing going. Maybe we weren’t soul mates, but we still had more than a lot of couples have. We could have done the whole white-picket-fence-minivan-in-the-suburbs thing and it could have been fine.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’d you drop her like a hot rock after the spell?”
“Because once I knew what I was missing I couldn’t un-know it, okay? And I wasn’t thinking about the future when I asked Giles to uh, to, uh, date me. I’m not exactly long-term-plan-guy. But how long do you think Giles is going to be happy with a guy like me? How long before he remembers he wants someone smart, someone he can talk about philosophy and books and stuff. Someone who read more than the cliff notes during high school. Someone who graduated from college. Maybe even someone who remembers the 70’s.
“This is going to end, Willow, and it’s going to end messy. Then who are you and Buffy going to need more, the watcher who knows all the lore and owns all the books, or the guy who sometimes buys the donuts? So yeah, short term, this is great, I’m having the time of my life. Long-term, I’ve got nothing. So excuse me if I’m not more grateful for your wonderful spell.”
Willow looked like she might cry, “Xander! You’re always going to be my best friend. And Buffy will always need you. Nobody else can whittle a stake like you. Have you talked about this to Giles?”
“Oh, no,” Xander said. “The last thing I want is for him to break it off even earlier for my own good. I’m going to ride this thing just as long as I can. Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Willow smiled sadly, “Except you kinda did.”
“Maybe kinda,” Xander agreed.
Then looked at each other a moment, and then Willow gave Xander a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“I know,” he said. “But, hey, time of my life now, right? I’m gonna have me some really great memories. That’s worth something.”
“Sure,” Willow said.
The door burst open, just missing Xander, and Buffy barreled out. “Bye, I’ll tell Mom you said Merry Christmas,” she said over her shoulder. Then she shut the door and leaned back against it.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” she said, “What were you thinking, leaving me alone with the TMI twins. Xander, I’ve decided to believe there are two Xanders in Sunnydale. Ice and spanking Xander, who Giles and Anya were talking about, and who I’ve never, never met. And my bestest buddy Xander, who may, possibly, when I am not around, hold hands with my watcher and give him little smoochies on the cheek. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure, Buff,” Xander said. “What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t fully support you in your denial? Plus I prefer my public displays of affection in private, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Buffy said. “Come on, Willow, I’ll walk you home before I go back out on patrol. If I’m lucky, a vamp will knock me into a headstone hard enough to give me amnesia. That would definitely be of the good.”
The door flew open again and Anya yelled “WAIT!” She stared for a moment at the group by the door and then continued. “There you are, Buffy. I’m glad you haven’t left yet. You need to walk me home. It’s not safe after dark.”
Buffy sighed. “Okay, Anya, I’ll walk you home on one condition. You can’t say a single word, okay.”
“Why not?” Anya asked.
“Because Buffy has to be able to hear if the vampires are sneaking up on us,” Willow said.
“Oh, sure,” Anya said. “Are you coming, Xander?”
“No, you go ahead without me,” Xander said. “I left some stuff inside.”
Xander waved the three women off and went back inside.
Giles was staring into his glass of scotch, but looked up and smiled when he saw Xander. “You came back,” he said.
“Of course I came back,” Xander said. “How about some more orange juice and another aspirin?”
---
It was the urgent need to piss that woke Giles in the middle of the night. His head was pounding, and he knew there was a strong possibility of vomiting in his future. He noticed a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers sitting on his nightstand. He collected them as he made his way to the bathroom.
After using the toilet, Giles washed his hands and splashed water on his face. He drank the water, took the aspirin, and refilled his glass from the bathroom tap.
Eggnog, he decided, was more deadly that one might expect. Especially with a whole bottle of scotch, and then more scotch on top of that.
He tried to reconstruct the evening. Xander had helped him up the stairs, and gotten Giles into pajamas and settled in bed, but then he hadn’t stayed. Giles grimaced. Xander never stayed the night, no matter how Giles tried to exhaust him in bed. Still, it was Christmas Eve, Christmas day probably by now. Of course Xander was home with his family.
Buffy had come by, and Willow and Anya. Oh Dear Lord, had Giles really sat and discussed with Anya the many ways ice could be used to heighten sexual pleasure, most especially Xander’s sexual pleasure, with Buffy in the room. His slayer would likely never speak to him again. Oh Christ.
Why on earth had Buffy and Willow brought Anya by to begin with? It’s not like the three of them were fast friends. Giles had an idea it had to do with Xander. Had they come with Xander? No, Xander had been there first. No, that’s right. They’d come because Xander was missing. Xander, who always slept outside on Christmas Eve, wasn’t in his backyard because he was at Giles’ house.
Xander, who always slept outside on Christmas Eve.
Xander was sleeping outside. In Sunnydale. After Dark.
Giles stumbled to the closet, quickly putting on an overcoat over his pajamas and stuffing the pockets with stakes, crosses and a bottle of holy water. He stuffed his barefeet into his shoes, and collected his crossbow and a few bolts, but he didn’t take the time to load it.
“So help me, Xander, if you’re dead, I’ll throttle you to within an inch of your life,” he said as he headed for the door.
“What?” Xander’s voice said. “What’s happening? Is there an apocalypse?”
Giles stopped and turned on the light, wincing as it hurt his eyes.
Xander was lying in a sleeping bag on top of Giles’ couch.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Giles said.
“Sorry,” Xander said. “Sorry.” He climbed out of the sleeping bag, and looked around until found his pants and started to pull them on over the boxers he’d worn to sleep in. “I meant to be gone before you woke up. I set an alarm. I thought, I’m sorry, I just. I wanted to sleep indoors for once on Christmas, you know. I mean, certainty of belligerent drunk relatives outweighs the possibility of vampires, especially since I survived so many years before I knew about the vamps. But, you know, I figured lack of both vamps and drunks would be of the good. I don’t mean you though. Not that you’re a drunk. I mean, just because you were drunk doesn’t make you a, uh. Anyway, I don’t want to be one of these people who’re always hanging around until you get sick of them. I’ll be out of here in just a minute and you’ll never be able to tell I was even here.”
“How long?” Giles asked.
“I don’t know,” Xander said. “A few hours? What time is it?”
“No, how many years have you spent outdoors after dark in Sunnydale on Christmas Eve?”
Xander counted silently on his fingers. “Eight?” he said. “Since I was eleven.”
“And do you sleep outside on any other occasions? St. Patrick’s Day? Easter? The Fourth of Bloody July?”
“No.”
“Eight times you’ve put your life at risk in the stupidest possible way imaginable. Twice since you’ve known about the existence of vampires. Twice since you met me. Two times I could have woken up on Christmas morning to the news that you’d been drained or turned or had simply disappeared leaving us to wonder exactly what had killed you and how. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I -”
“My God, Xander, what would we have done without you? What would have happened if you weren’t there to give Buffy CPR? What would my life be like if you weren’t here for me to fall in love with.”
“For you to what now?” Xander asked.
“I’m sorry,” Giles said. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. You’re young, and you haven’t had much experience yet. You came to me and asked for sex, nothing else. I understand. It’s only natural to want to other partners, better, younger partners. You’re not ready to settle down and I-”
“No,” Xander said. “You don’t get to blame this on me. I’m not early-seventies-orgy guy. I know when I’ve got a good thing going. I may have had only three partners, but during the lesson on VD, my health teacher said when you have sex with someone, it’s like you’re also having sex with everyone they’ve ever been with. By that definition, I’ve slept with most of the boys in South Boston, about a thousand years worth of men all across Europe and the US, and I figure a lot of stoned and semi-stoned women and men in England, including - oh my God! - Ethan Rayne. Damn it, Giles, now I need to shower.”
Giles rubbed his aching forehead and reminded himself that he’d known from the start that Xander often babbled incomprehensibly. “I assure you, Xander, I’ve been tested. I do not have VD.”
“That is so not my point, British man,” Xander said. “My point is I don’t need to experience lots of partners because I’ve had partners with lots of experience. So you don’t get to dump the minimum wage loser with the high school education and claim you’re doing it for my own good. If you want me gone, man up and tell me to my face that you’re sick of being with someone who can’t discuss Dickens or Shakespeare.”
“My God, you are an idiot,” Giles said. “There are dozens of people I can call should I wish to discuss Shakespeare. My parents, for instance, are avid theatre-goers and probably see more than a dozen different Shakespeare productions a year. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who understands my life’s work? Who is as invested in helping my slayer as I am? Whose stamina in the bedroom is almost a match for mine?
“Almost? Almost? Is that a challenge?”
Giles smiled. “It is, but possibly one for another day, when I’m a little less hungover.”
“Oh hell. Can I get you more orange juice?”
“A glass of water would be lovely,” Giles said. “And then let’s go up to bed.”
After Giles drank the water and removed his overcoat and shoes, and Xander took his pants back off, they both settled comfortably in Giles’ bed.
“You said you were in love with me,” Xander said.
“I did,” Giles admitted.
“I, uh, me, too. I’m in love with you. But I thought you were waiting for someone better to come along."
"I was," Giles said, "and he did."
-end-
My apologies to the prompter. The original prompt specified New Year's Eve, not Christmas Eve. Unfortunately the plot I came up with required Christmas Eve. I hope that's okay.
FRT
Giles/Xander
3,400 words
Giles and Xander belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy, not to me. I make no money, I have no rights.
Set on Christmas Eve of Season 4. This is AU. It's a sequel to my story The First (and Last) Time Willow Said the F-word
“Hey, Loverboy!” Xander yelled as he burst into Giles’ apartment. But instead of the expected exasperated-yet-secretly-pleased ‘I told you never to call me that,” there was only a muffled groan.
Xander shucked his backpack, and pulled the stake from his jacket pocket. It might be Christmas Eve, but it was still Sunnydale after dark.
“Giles? You okay?” Xander called out, edging slowly further into the apartment.
“Xan’er?” Giles’ voice sounded weakly from the vicinity of the couch.
Xander stepped over to where he could see Giles lying down, blinking groggily. Xander ran to him. He dropped the stake and knelt next to the couch, and began to gently probe Giles’ head for bumps. “Did you hit your head? Are you bleeding? Did you see what attacked you? Should I call Buffy?”
“’M alright,” Giles said, his speech slurred.
Xander caught a whiff of his breath. “Damn it, Giles!”
“Wha’s a matter?” Giles asked.
Xander sat in the armchair farthest from the couch and glared at Giles. “You’re drunk.”
Giles struggled to sit up. “Is there 'poc-lypse? Why’re you here”
“This is what I always do after work.” Xander said. “Go home, shower away the stench of pepperoni and minimum wage servitude, and come by here. Why are you drunk?”
Giles achieved a semblance of a sitting position on the couch. He looked around the room, blinking. His eyes traveled from the miniature Christmas tree sitting on his coffee table to Xander’s face. “Chrish, Christmas Eve. You’re s’pposed to be home with family, singing carols ‘n whatnot.”
Xander shook his head angrily. “I’m supposed to be here, with my boyfr-, um, with you. Only you’re not supposed to be drunk. Do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to Christmas Eve without the sobriety-challenged? To the complete avoidance of people of intoxication? A total absence of Inebriated-Americans?”
Giles pulled himself into a more dignified posture. “’M not an ebria, an inebiated, an inrebiated - I’m British.”
Xander sighed. “What are the chances you’ll drink some water, if I bring it to you?”
“No water,” said Giles.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Uhuh. I’ve never met a drunk yet who would do anything that was good for him. Why should you be the exception?”
“Tea,” Giles said.
“So if I make tea, you’ll drink it?” Xander asked. “You’re really that drunk?”
Giles thought about that for a moment. “Or’nge juice.”
Xander nodded and got Giles a glass of orange juice from the kitchen and some aspirin from the bathroom. He handed Giles the glass and the tablets and then stood back. So far, Giles was not-so-much-with-the-surly, but staying beyond a drunk’s arm reach was just plain good sense.
Giles blinked at him. “Why’re you here?”
“I’m here every night.” Xander said. “Surely you noticed the regular occurrence of hot, gay sex.” Giles didn’t say anything, so Xander babbled on. “Please tell me you noticed the regular occurrence of hot, gay sex.”
Giles nodded and stared into his glass of orange juice. “Not going to last. Just til shum, sh, someone better comes along.”
Xander grimaced. It’s not like he didn’t know that Giles thought of Xander as just a friend with benefits. Or an annoyance with benefits, depending on the day. It still hurt to hear Giles say it.
“Drink up there, Foster Brooks,” Xander said. He waited until Giles handed him the empty glass, then carried it back into the kitchen. He was rinsing the glass in the sink when the front door suddenly burst open.
Xander had only a moment of panic before he realized that the invaders were Buffy, Willow and Anya.
The three women spotted Giles sitting on the coach, and flocked to him.
“Giles!” Buffy said, “Xander is missing.”
“Xan’er?” Giles asked, looking around in a perplexed fashion. “Mishing?”
“He sleeps in the backyard every Christmas Eve, but he wasn’t there,” Willow said, her voice high with panic, “Even his sleeping bag was gone. So Buffy checked with me, and I haven’t seen him, and then we found Anya but she hasn’t seen him, and The Bronze is closed so we looked-”
“Will!” Xander said from the kitchen, “Breathe! I’m here. I’m right here.”
The three women rushed to over to Xander.
“Xander,” Buffy said, punching him in the arm, “let me know next time you’re not going to be in mortal danger, so I don’t have to worry.”
“Sure thing, Buff,” Xander said. “Also, can I just say ow!”
“She was worried,” Willow said. “We all were.”
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Anya said, hugging Xander.
For a moment Xander hugged back. Then Anya’s hands slipped down past his waist to caress his ass.
“ANYA!” he said, pushing her away. “Hands!”
“I think we should get back together, Xander,” Anya said. “You were wrong when you said there’d be a lot of guys who want to give me orgasms. There are only a lot of guys who want me to give them orgasms. And a few who want me to shut up and go away.”
“What a surprise,” Willow said. “Wait, did you two break up?”
“Kinda,” Xander said. Then he caught a hopeful look in Anya’s eye and added “And by that I mean completely and irrevocably.”
“Buffy!” Giles said, joining them all in the kitchen. “You found Xander. This calls for a shela, celeba, for a party!”
“Yeah,” Willow smiled as she looked from Xander to Anya and back again. “Suddenly I feel like celebrating. Do you have any soda, Giles?”
“No,” Giles said, pulling cups from the cupboard. “No soda. Eggnog!”
He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a glass bowl about half full of a light colored liquid.
“It’s an old Giles family recipe,” he announced proudly, as he ladled the eggnog from the bowl into the cups.
Xander looked at his cup dubiously. “There’s egg in this?”
“Yes,” Giles said.
“But it’s cooked, right? You didn’t just hand me a big old cup of salmonella? Because I have other plans for Christmas morning besides puking my guts out.”
“No, the eggs’re raw. The alcohol would kill anything nasty, though. ’s perfectly safe.”
“Are you sure?” Willow asked.
“Oh yes, I, er, I couldn’t quite remember how much scotch the recipe called for. So I added the whole bottle of scotch.”
“Scotch?” Xander said. “Hey, Giles, aren’t you the guy who gave me unending grief because I let Buffy drink a little beer. Hypocritical much?”
Giles looked hurt. “Isn’t beer. It’s scotch.”
Xander laughed. “Oh, well, that’s alright then.”
Giles smiled and his face wavered towards Xander. For a moment, Xander thought Giles was going to kiss him in front of everyone. Then Giles pulled back and picked up his cup instead. “Happy Christmas,” he said to the group, raising his glass.”
Xander rolled his eyes at the Britishism, but answered “Happy Christmas,” along with Buffy and Anya. Willow just made her ‘not everyone worships Santa’ face as they all clinked their cups together.
Buffy and Willow took polite sips of the eggnog. Anya took a larger sip, evidently an eggnog fan. Xander waited until Giles’ back was turned and dumped his out in the sink.
“That was great!” Xander said, smacking his lips. “Too bad there’s not any more.”
“Oh,” Giles said. “Here, you can have mine.” He gave his cup to Xander. “I’ve already had quite a bit.”
“Thanks,” Xander said, accepting Giles’ cup as if it were a live snake.
Anya tipped her glass back, making sure to get the last drop. “God, I’ve missed alcohol,” she said.
“I could, er, make more, I s’pose,” Giles said. He pulled a fresh bottle of scotch from the cupboard and then turned towards the refrigerator.
“Don’t bother on my account,” Anya said. “Straight scotch will do fine.” She reached over, picked up the bottle and carried it with her to the living room. Giles stopped to grab a couple glasses before following her and the bottle.
“So, Xan,” Willow said. “Enquiring minds want to know. How do you dump a former vengeance demon and end up still in one piece?”
“Actually she was very cool about it,” Xander said. “We’re staying friends and everything.”
“And she’s not going to try and remove any important body parts when you start seeing another woman?” Buffy asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anya said from the living room. “Xander’s never having sex with a woman ever again.”
“What did you do to him?” Willow asked, striding out of the kitchen towards Anya. Buffy and Xander followed her.
“Me? Hah!” Anya said. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one who made him magically gay. Thank you very much. I don’t think I’ll ever find another guy who can do the things with his tongue that Xander can do.”
“Here, here,” Giles said, lifting his glass and earning himself a couple of strange looks.
“I did not make Xander gay,” Willow said. “I’ve said I’m sorry, like, a million times. And the effects of that spell were temporary. It’s not like Buffy is still wanting to marry Spike, right, Buffy?
“Marry? No.” Buffy said. Then she noticed how everyone was looking at her. “I mean, I don’t feel even the slightest attraction towards Spike, no matter how good a kisser he is - was. How good a kisser he was. When I was in love with him. Which I’m not. Anymore. Because the spell was temporary.”
“Xander is a good kisser,” Anya said. She finished off her scotch and poured herself another, also topping off Giles’ glass when he held it out to her.
Giles sipped his scotch and nodded. “Very good.”
“And he would try anything in bed,” Anya said. “Anything.”
“Really?” Giles asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “I know now why he liked pegging so much. But he also liked the spanking. A lot.”
“Yeah, I was surprised when he asked for that,” Giles said, “’s good, though.”
“It’s his enthusiasm,” Anya said. “That’s what’s so great. Oh, and his stamina. And that thing he does with his tongue.”
“Not jus’ his tongue,” Giles said. “The sounds he makes when I deep throat him, I believe I could come just lis’ning to those sounds.”
Both Willow and Buffy are regarding their cups of eggnogg with horror.
“Evil beer makes you a cave person,” said Buffy. “So evil eggnog must make you hear, like, the most disturbing thing you can imagine, right?”
“I don’t think I could imagine this,” Willow said. “I’ve never really been that creative.”
“He makes the same sounds when you rub ice on his nipples,” Anya said.
“Ice?” Giles looked interested.
“GILES!” Xander yelled. “What the hell is WRONG with you?”
“Oh,” said Buffy. “Good. There’s something wrong with Giles. That makes more sense. He drank way more of the evil eggnog than the rest of us. Maybe he’s possessed or something.”
“Right,” Willow said. “Giles is totally possessed. That makes a lot more sense.”
“What?” Giles asked Xander.
“For the past month you’ve been Mr-No-Xander-We-Can’t-Tell-Our-Friends-Because-We-Can’t-Let-Willow-Think-Anything-Good-Came-From-Her-Irresponsible-Use-Of-Magic-So-We’re-Lying-Because-It’s-Really-The-Moral-High-Ground-And-Also-Even-Though-I-Won’t-Admit-It-Because-I’m-Deeply-Ashamed-To-Be-Involved-With-A-Minimum-Wage-Loser-Who-Couldn’t-Even-Get-Into-College.”
“What?” Giles said again.
“And now suddenly you’re hopping onboard Anya’s TMI train? It’s like I’m just a, a, a sex toy to you two. God!”
“Wait,” Willow said. “You mean you’re actually-the two of you are actually - I can’t believe this. I’ve been wallowing in guilt for weeks. I baked cookies, I groveled, and I haven’t so much as levitated a pencil for a month. And the whole time, the whole time, you LIKED it. You’ve been doing your own encores, now with added spanking!”
Willow pointed at Xander. “And you! I don’t care what your new boyfriend says. I’m your best friend. I’ve been your best friend for practically as long as either of us can remember. You don’t lie to your best friend, Xander. I thought I’d screwed up past all redemption. I thought I’d hurt you in a way I could never fix, and the whole time you were having a grand old time, getting your lying little rocks off with Giles.”
There was silence for a moment. Everyone, including Willow, was stunned because Willow just didn’t talk like that.
Then Anya said, “They’re not little.”
“What?” Willow said.
“His ‘rocks,’” Anya said. “They’re not little. And technically, they aren’t the part of him that was lying to you.”
Xander turned bright red. “Thank you, Anya, but you’re not helping.”
Xander looked from Willow to Giles and back. “Willow, can I talk to you outside?” He took her arm and led her outside into the courtyard.
“You think you did me a favor with that spell now, don’t you?” Xander said as soon as he closed the door behind them.
“Well, obviously,” Willow said. “A watcher’s got to be an upgrade on a demon, and at least Giles was born in the same century you were.”
“You don’t get it, Will,” Xander said. “I was FINE with Anya. Maybe I was missing something, a big something, but I didn’t know that. Anya and I had a whole mutual need slash codependency thing going. Maybe we weren’t soul mates, but we still had more than a lot of couples have. We could have done the whole white-picket-fence-minivan-in-the-suburbs thing and it could have been fine.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’d you drop her like a hot rock after the spell?”
“Because once I knew what I was missing I couldn’t un-know it, okay? And I wasn’t thinking about the future when I asked Giles to uh, to, uh, date me. I’m not exactly long-term-plan-guy. But how long do you think Giles is going to be happy with a guy like me? How long before he remembers he wants someone smart, someone he can talk about philosophy and books and stuff. Someone who read more than the cliff notes during high school. Someone who graduated from college. Maybe even someone who remembers the 70’s.
“This is going to end, Willow, and it’s going to end messy. Then who are you and Buffy going to need more, the watcher who knows all the lore and owns all the books, or the guy who sometimes buys the donuts? So yeah, short term, this is great, I’m having the time of my life. Long-term, I’ve got nothing. So excuse me if I’m not more grateful for your wonderful spell.”
Willow looked like she might cry, “Xander! You’re always going to be my best friend. And Buffy will always need you. Nobody else can whittle a stake like you. Have you talked about this to Giles?”
“Oh, no,” Xander said. “The last thing I want is for him to break it off even earlier for my own good. I’m going to ride this thing just as long as I can. Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Willow smiled sadly, “Except you kinda did.”
“Maybe kinda,” Xander agreed.
Then looked at each other a moment, and then Willow gave Xander a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“I know,” he said. “But, hey, time of my life now, right? I’m gonna have me some really great memories. That’s worth something.”
“Sure,” Willow said.
The door burst open, just missing Xander, and Buffy barreled out. “Bye, I’ll tell Mom you said Merry Christmas,” she said over her shoulder. Then she shut the door and leaned back against it.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” she said, “What were you thinking, leaving me alone with the TMI twins. Xander, I’ve decided to believe there are two Xanders in Sunnydale. Ice and spanking Xander, who Giles and Anya were talking about, and who I’ve never, never met. And my bestest buddy Xander, who may, possibly, when I am not around, hold hands with my watcher and give him little smoochies on the cheek. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure, Buff,” Xander said. “What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t fully support you in your denial? Plus I prefer my public displays of affection in private, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Buffy said. “Come on, Willow, I’ll walk you home before I go back out on patrol. If I’m lucky, a vamp will knock me into a headstone hard enough to give me amnesia. That would definitely be of the good.”
The door flew open again and Anya yelled “WAIT!” She stared for a moment at the group by the door and then continued. “There you are, Buffy. I’m glad you haven’t left yet. You need to walk me home. It’s not safe after dark.”
Buffy sighed. “Okay, Anya, I’ll walk you home on one condition. You can’t say a single word, okay.”
“Why not?” Anya asked.
“Because Buffy has to be able to hear if the vampires are sneaking up on us,” Willow said.
“Oh, sure,” Anya said. “Are you coming, Xander?”
“No, you go ahead without me,” Xander said. “I left some stuff inside.”
Xander waved the three women off and went back inside.
Giles was staring into his glass of scotch, but looked up and smiled when he saw Xander. “You came back,” he said.
“Of course I came back,” Xander said. “How about some more orange juice and another aspirin?”
---
It was the urgent need to piss that woke Giles in the middle of the night. His head was pounding, and he knew there was a strong possibility of vomiting in his future. He noticed a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers sitting on his nightstand. He collected them as he made his way to the bathroom.
After using the toilet, Giles washed his hands and splashed water on his face. He drank the water, took the aspirin, and refilled his glass from the bathroom tap.
Eggnog, he decided, was more deadly that one might expect. Especially with a whole bottle of scotch, and then more scotch on top of that.
He tried to reconstruct the evening. Xander had helped him up the stairs, and gotten Giles into pajamas and settled in bed, but then he hadn’t stayed. Giles grimaced. Xander never stayed the night, no matter how Giles tried to exhaust him in bed. Still, it was Christmas Eve, Christmas day probably by now. Of course Xander was home with his family.
Buffy had come by, and Willow and Anya. Oh Dear Lord, had Giles really sat and discussed with Anya the many ways ice could be used to heighten sexual pleasure, most especially Xander’s sexual pleasure, with Buffy in the room. His slayer would likely never speak to him again. Oh Christ.
Why on earth had Buffy and Willow brought Anya by to begin with? It’s not like the three of them were fast friends. Giles had an idea it had to do with Xander. Had they come with Xander? No, Xander had been there first. No, that’s right. They’d come because Xander was missing. Xander, who always slept outside on Christmas Eve, wasn’t in his backyard because he was at Giles’ house.
Xander, who always slept outside on Christmas Eve.
Xander was sleeping outside. In Sunnydale. After Dark.
Giles stumbled to the closet, quickly putting on an overcoat over his pajamas and stuffing the pockets with stakes, crosses and a bottle of holy water. He stuffed his barefeet into his shoes, and collected his crossbow and a few bolts, but he didn’t take the time to load it.
“So help me, Xander, if you’re dead, I’ll throttle you to within an inch of your life,” he said as he headed for the door.
“What?” Xander’s voice said. “What’s happening? Is there an apocalypse?”
Giles stopped and turned on the light, wincing as it hurt his eyes.
Xander was lying in a sleeping bag on top of Giles’ couch.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Giles said.
“Sorry,” Xander said. “Sorry.” He climbed out of the sleeping bag, and looked around until found his pants and started to pull them on over the boxers he’d worn to sleep in. “I meant to be gone before you woke up. I set an alarm. I thought, I’m sorry, I just. I wanted to sleep indoors for once on Christmas, you know. I mean, certainty of belligerent drunk relatives outweighs the possibility of vampires, especially since I survived so many years before I knew about the vamps. But, you know, I figured lack of both vamps and drunks would be of the good. I don’t mean you though. Not that you’re a drunk. I mean, just because you were drunk doesn’t make you a, uh. Anyway, I don’t want to be one of these people who’re always hanging around until you get sick of them. I’ll be out of here in just a minute and you’ll never be able to tell I was even here.”
“How long?” Giles asked.
“I don’t know,” Xander said. “A few hours? What time is it?”
“No, how many years have you spent outdoors after dark in Sunnydale on Christmas Eve?”
Xander counted silently on his fingers. “Eight?” he said. “Since I was eleven.”
“And do you sleep outside on any other occasions? St. Patrick’s Day? Easter? The Fourth of Bloody July?”
“No.”
“Eight times you’ve put your life at risk in the stupidest possible way imaginable. Twice since you’ve known about the existence of vampires. Twice since you met me. Two times I could have woken up on Christmas morning to the news that you’d been drained or turned or had simply disappeared leaving us to wonder exactly what had killed you and how. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I -”
“My God, Xander, what would we have done without you? What would have happened if you weren’t there to give Buffy CPR? What would my life be like if you weren’t here for me to fall in love with.”
“For you to what now?” Xander asked.
“I’m sorry,” Giles said. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. You’re young, and you haven’t had much experience yet. You came to me and asked for sex, nothing else. I understand. It’s only natural to want to other partners, better, younger partners. You’re not ready to settle down and I-”
“No,” Xander said. “You don’t get to blame this on me. I’m not early-seventies-orgy guy. I know when I’ve got a good thing going. I may have had only three partners, but during the lesson on VD, my health teacher said when you have sex with someone, it’s like you’re also having sex with everyone they’ve ever been with. By that definition, I’ve slept with most of the boys in South Boston, about a thousand years worth of men all across Europe and the US, and I figure a lot of stoned and semi-stoned women and men in England, including - oh my God! - Ethan Rayne. Damn it, Giles, now I need to shower.”
Giles rubbed his aching forehead and reminded himself that he’d known from the start that Xander often babbled incomprehensibly. “I assure you, Xander, I’ve been tested. I do not have VD.”
“That is so not my point, British man,” Xander said. “My point is I don’t need to experience lots of partners because I’ve had partners with lots of experience. So you don’t get to dump the minimum wage loser with the high school education and claim you’re doing it for my own good. If you want me gone, man up and tell me to my face that you’re sick of being with someone who can’t discuss Dickens or Shakespeare.”
“My God, you are an idiot,” Giles said. “There are dozens of people I can call should I wish to discuss Shakespeare. My parents, for instance, are avid theatre-goers and probably see more than a dozen different Shakespeare productions a year. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who understands my life’s work? Who is as invested in helping my slayer as I am? Whose stamina in the bedroom is almost a match for mine?
“Almost? Almost? Is that a challenge?”
Giles smiled. “It is, but possibly one for another day, when I’m a little less hungover.”
“Oh hell. Can I get you more orange juice?”
“A glass of water would be lovely,” Giles said. “And then let’s go up to bed.”
After Giles drank the water and removed his overcoat and shoes, and Xander took his pants back off, they both settled comfortably in Giles’ bed.
“You said you were in love with me,” Xander said.
“I did,” Giles admitted.
“I, uh, me, too. I’m in love with you. But I thought you were waiting for someone better to come along."
"I was," Giles said, "and he did."
-end-
My apologies to the prompter. The original prompt specified New Year's Eve, not Christmas Eve. Unfortunately the plot I came up with required Christmas Eve. I hope that's okay.